From the Stars Themselves
by Seeing Fire
Summary: When Elenion joins the Fellowship of the Ring, she raises suspicions in some of the Company. Having had a feud with Thranduil many years ago, Legolas is one of the most hesitant to trust her. But when they are forced to work together, how compatible will they become? *If anyone has any questions about the Elvish used to create this story, message me and I will be delighted to help.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

In the Second Age before the War of the Last Alliance the Valar held council upon Taniquetil. Middle-Earth was, they deemed, in peril too great for the Istari and the Free Peoples of Middle Earth to rise against alone. Therefore Varda Elentari chose a young star, small in size but brighter than Mithril, and returned with it to the Council. Each of the Valar blessed it with gifts after his or her own heart, and Varda caused it to take form, in the likeness of a child of the Eldar, a girl. She sent it down to Middle Earth to be found by Elrond Peredhel, son of Eärendil and Elwing. Elrond took the child in his arms, and he called her Elenion, for she had come from the stars themselves.

She was raised as his own in Rivendell, the haven of the Elves, which he had built. She grew tall and strong, with long, dark brown hair that fell in soft waves around her shoulders. In nearly every way she seemed to be a child of the Elves, but her eyes marked her as otherwise: usually a dark brown, they changed in colour; sometimes green, sometimes grey, other times an icy blue. She was taught by the wisest of Middle Earth: Elrond and the Istari and the few who remained who had seen the light of Valinor, and she became intelligent and wise. When the time came she fought alongside her adoptive father and his allies in the War of the Last Alliance. From that point on her story is known to a few only.

**Chapter One**

The Fellowship of the Ring left Rivendell on the Twenty-fifth of December of the year 3018 at dusk. Gandalf had spoken little of the tenth member of their Company, merely stating the name, Elenion, and purpose. The others, most particularly Boromir and the Dwarf, had asked many questions regarding the loyalties and trustworthiness of this mysterious companion, but the Wizard kept his silence. The Elf surmised that there were things Mithrandir did not want them to know of this Elenion. Resentment grew in his heart at the Wizard's restraint. But he kept these feelings to himself.

They exited the forest surrounding the valley at nightfall. They made their camp; the Dwarf and the Hobbits went straight to sleep. The others sat round the fire, keeping watch together and trying to stay merry.

Legolas heard a slight rustling in the trees behind them. His hands fingered his bow as he leaned towards Aragorn and whispered, 'There is something in the trees. It moves with great speed. It watches us.'

Aragorn turned around to look at the forest. His blue eyes searched the leaves for any sign of life. Then his face broke into a smile. _'Mellon nín! Mae g'ovannen, Elenion!'_

There was more rustling amongst the leaves, and then a girl jumped out and landed on the ground. '_Mae g'ovannen, Aragorn, mellon nín.'_

'_Tolo, govano ven. Tolo anin naur,_' Aragorn told her.

The girl came closer towards the firelight. She had deathly pale skin, of an almost silvery hue, tall; her brown hair was held up off her neck in a braided bun on the back of her head. Her face was grave and serious; there was no sign of joy or happiness there. Her eyes were brown, a deep, dark brown that seemed to espy the very shadows and weaknesses within one's soul. Her cloak and shirt were grey, with a bow of aspen on her shoulder and a knife at her side. She looked upon the Company critically, as though she was sizing each one of them up for a fight. Her eyes fell upon Gandalf and lit up. 'Mithrandir!' she exclaimed. _'Mae g'ovannen!_'

'_Mae g'ovannen, Elenion,_' Mithrandir replied, laughing. '_Gi nathlam hí, mellon nín._'

'_Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn,_' she said. They saluted each other in the Elven fashion, and then embraced as two friends who have been long apart. When the two let go of each other the girl's eyes flickered over the other companions; it seemed to Legolas that a glint of disgust and ire shone in them as they landed on him, before quickly flitting away. They softened as they found the Hobbits.

'So, these are the Halflings, friends of the one?'

'And the one himself,' added Aragorn. 'Elenion, he carries a heavy burden.'

'Such is known to me,' said Elenion. 'I have seen its power and its corruption. To have taken such a weight is to walk willingly to the gallows. What he lacks in size he makes up for in courage.'

Legolas and Boromir weren't quite sure that they liked her. She seemed to speak of the Ring with such reverence, and such awe, and spoke of Frodo as though he were tying his own noose. They certainly didn't approve of her going along with them to Mordor.

Elenion looked at the two of them as though she knew everything they had just thought. 'The Weapon of the Dark Lord is to be dealt with caution. Many have refused to acknowledge the depth of its call and it is for that reason it succeeds in ensnaring the both the cautious and the incautious alike. Compared to it we are all mere children, blindly groping in the dark.'

'What is this sick, twisted admiration you have for it?' Legolas asked her, slightly horrified.

'It's better than all of us put together,' she said, her eyes filled with a strange, slightly insane light. 'Give us five minutes during which we have no self-restraint; it'll have us killing each other in three. There is great wisdom to be learned from it, but it is wisdom of the dark. Many have said 'tis wiser to study an honest fool than an intelligent villain.

'You are all about to be tested,' she continued. 'Doubtless it has already devised temptations for each of us and is merely waiting for the time to ripen when we will be at our weakest. It's a game, don't you see?' The mad light in her eyes shone in a very unsettling manner. 'None of us have a choice whether or not to play. It wants to win. Losing is not an option to either of us.'

Legolas and Boromir exchanged looks. 'Why do you speak of it in this way?' Boromir asked, not quite meeting her eyes.

Elenion looked at him, her eyes filled with a sudden ire. 'The Ring,' she said darkly, 'is a living opponent. It thinks, it plots, it strikes like a skilled chess master; slowly, and then all at once. Very few of us will beat his game.'

Boromir and Legolas were, by now, very unsettled indeed. Mithrandir and Aragorn, on the other hand, seemed at ease and untroubled. Perhaps, after years of knowing each other as their greetings had suggested, they were accustomed to her strangeness by now.

The sun began to break over the horizon, filling their faces with hues of red, orange, and pink. The Dwarf, who had fallen asleep with his face turned towards the East, awoke, grumbling. He looked up and saw Elenion standing there. His hands reached instinctively for his axe.

'Have peace, Gimli,' Aragorn told him. 'This is our tenth companion, Elenion, whom some have called Nólemiel. She is a friend of the Company.'

Gimli grunted. Legolas felt queer at the name Aragorn had spoken. _Nólemiel._ He knew that name.

'Day breaks,' said Elenion, 'and ever more precious time slips away at our fingertips. Let us go.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Elenion roused the Hobbits from their slumber in haste. 'Awaken, Ring-bearer,' she whispered, shaking Frodo's shoulder.

Frodo muttered several unintelligible sounds and opened his eyes to Elenion's unfamiliar, stern face. He yelped and scooted away quickly. His cry woke his friends, and they rubbed their eyes wearily.

'Frodo,' said Gandalf, 'this is Elenion, our tenth Companion. I believe your uncle has several stories of her?'

'Indeed he does,' muttered Frodo. 'And I have scarce believed them.'

'With good reason,' said Elenion, 'for I have a feeling Bilbo Baggins added more than a few of his own embellishments. Yet in all tall tales there is an element of truth.'

'And I suppose you know the other Halflings, Elenion,' said Aragorn.

'How?' asked Boromir.

Elenion looked him in the eye and her eyes turned a grey the colour of ominous storm clouds. Boromir looked away quickly, as though he had seen something he wished to forget.

They packed their things in the red light of the dawn and departed that place. But for several murmurings of conversation, their walk was quiet. Occasionally a small bird flew overhead. The grass was dull and yellow, with rocks dotted about around them, covered with dry, cracked lichen, from the size of small pebbles to boulders several feet taller than Aragorn. For hours they walked through this terrain, until the sun was high in the sky and beat upon them relentlessly. At about noon, Boromir, feeling heavy with weariness and the heat, suggested they all take a rest in the shade of the biggest boulder they had seen yet; tall enough to cast a sizable shadow even though the sun was almost directly overhead. The others quickly agreed, and they sat in the cooling shade as Sam cooked a meal.

There was some disagreement amongst the Hobbits as to which meal it was to be called. Merry and Sam insisted that it was luncheon, judging by the position of the sun. Pippin disagreed, calling it Second Breakfast as it was the second meal of the day. In the end they ended up calling it Breakfast-Luncheon, satisfying both sides. Frodo had sided with neither Pippin nor Sam and Merry, and merely sat with Elenion, who watched them curiously.

'Hobbits do indeed find strange things to bicker over,' she mused. 'Your uncle Bilbo told me about Second Breakfast when he came to Rivendell, nigh twenty years ago. A Hobbit's diet is a curious thing to me. But to bicker over the name of a meal? Most quarrels that I have seen are over boundaries and ways of life, and end in bloodshed, not strange words. Bilbo has described to me much of the Shire and its inhabitants, and for that I am grateful, ever curious about the other peoples. But I am afraid there is much you Halflings can understand that I cannot.'

'Bilbo mentioned you often, I think, in the retellings of his adventures,' said Frodo. 'But I am less familiar with the name Elenion than I am with the name Nólemiel. The two are one, as I assumed?'

Elenion inclined her head. 'My close friends call me by my real name. But most know me as Nólemiel. Few outside of Imladris and Lothlórien speak to me by the name Elenion.'

'Then what ought we to call you?' Frodo asked.

She was silent for a moment. 'Mithrandir trusts you enough to introduce me by my real name,' she said finally. 'And I trust his judgement. You may call me Elenion.'

Frodo nodded as Sam came round with a plate of sausage and tomatoes. He ate heartily, letting the food strengthen him. Elenion ate little, and instead fidgeted with her silver knife.

She let out a frustrated sigh and leapt up, going to another boulder a few yards away, sitting upon it. She grabbed a stone from the ground and began sharpening her knife: a cruel, wicked blade with a sturdy, wooden handle. As she worked she muttered so quietly only Legolas could hear, in a language none of them could understand if they tried. Now and again Legolas caught Sindarin phrases. _'Nin gwerianneg, Thranduil. Pe-channas! Dôl gín lost.' 'You betrayed me, Thranduil. Fool! Your head is empty.'_

Legolas felt a boiling anger rise up within him. 'Excuse me,' he murmured to Aragorn, getting up and walking towards Elenion. 'I beg your pardon,' he said to her quietly through gritted teeth, 'but I could've sworn I heard you speaking of my father with disrespect.'

'If I do not respect someone, I can guarantee you that it is not without reason,' she replied, her voice low.

'I suggest you watch yourself if you plan on insulting my father,' he growled back.

Elenion smirked darkly, her eyes an icy blue that could've frozen everything they fell upon. 'Do not think I am afraid of you, son of Thranduil,' she hissed. 'I tolerate you for the sake of the Quest, but if you ask for a fight, you shall receive. For that reason I suggest you be very, very careful of what you ask for. Is that understood?' Without giving him a chance to answer (his answer would have been no anyway) she walked briskly away, seating herself beside Gandalf, as far away as possible from Frodo.

Legolas took the empty space next to Frodo, seething with anger. For about a fraction of a second he considered killing her in her sleep, but immediately afterward he remembered what Elenion had said about the Ring. 'Give us five minutes during which we have no self-restraint; it'll have us killing each other in three.' He tried to calm himself down and reminded himself that he was only about a foot from the Ring. It was riling him up, just as she said it would do to each of them.

After the Hobbits were finished with their third helpings the Company moved on. At one point Pippin began to complain of a stomach ache. 'Perhaps you should not have eaten three servings of sausage and tomatoes,' said Aragorn. Pippin shut up.

They stopped upon a hillside that evening. The Hobbits nearly collapsed with exhaustion. Elenion began collecting firewood for Aragorn and Boromir. A few minutes after she got back, they had a fire going, small but warm. The Hobbits lay round it on their blankets.

'We will all be taking two-hour, double watches throughout the night,' said Aragorn when everyone had gotten settled. 'Gandalf and I have selected pairs for you all. The first pair will be Gandalf and I. The second Gimli and Boromir. The third Legolas and Elenion."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It is pointless to say who was angrier about the arrangement. Legolas balled his fists. Elenion's eyes turned a stormy grey, her face devoid of emotion.

'I'd rather not', Legolas forced out, gritting his teeth.

'That makes two of us', Elenion said darkly. 'I have to say, Aragorn, your arrangements are not quite agreeable to some of us.'

'The said arrangements', Aragorn said calmly, 'were not based on popularity, but on practicality.'

'Why don't we take single watches?' asked Legolas. 'It might prevent any quarrels.'

'If you want to become Orc-meat, you may do so', countered Aragorn.

'The second sounds rather preferable to the first', Legolas told him angrily.

'Fortunately for you, that can be quickly arranged', Elenion snarled. It took Legolas a moment to fully understand her words. When he did, he was not pleased.

Elenion smirked as though she knew his thoughts. 'Not such a pleasant thought now when confronted with it? Not as pleasant to you as to me, obviously. Well done speaking words you do not understand, son of Thranduil.'

Legolas growled in anger. Elenion's smirk turned into a grin, satisfied with the way in which she had angered him so effortlessly.

'_Daro, _both of you!_'_ said Aragorn, walking between them. 'Be peaceful.'

'Don't tell me what to do', Elenion replied defiantly. Much to his annoyance, Legolas almost laughed. Elenion was actually quite funny when she wasn't talking about killing him.

'The arrangements are final', Gandalf intervened. 'I think it is ever more important now that the two of you learn to get along. Your watch starts after Boromir and Gimli's. I expect both of you to be courteous and amiable. Is that understood?'

After a brief but angry silence, Elenion and Legolas nodded, glaring at each other. A second later Elenion had stalked off to sit on a rock at the bottom of the hillside, her arms and legs crossed so tightly Legolas thought it might take several years for her to unravel.

'What's the matter with her?' Legolas asked Aragorn.

'Forgiveness', sighed Aragorn, 'has never been Elenion's strong point, and never will be, and even if she forgives, she never forgets. She can be quite passive aggressive. But whether or not she will express how you or your family wronged her, I cannot say; she often expects others to remember because she herself remembers everything.'

'So there's nothing I can do?' asked Legolas. 'To make her behave cordially with me?'

'_Make her?'_ repeated Aragorn incredulously. _'Mellon nín,_ you cannot _make_ her do anything. She willingly takes orders from none but her father and Eru Ilúvatar himself; I think the only reason she (barely) agreed to keep watch with you is because she respects Gandalf unconditionally. She respects me as well, but not quite as much as she does Gandalf. You should rest now, Legolas.'

He phrased it as a suggestion, but Legolas knew it was an order. He decided against arguing, and settled upon the ground; the infinite stars shining overhead were the last sight he saw before his eyes eventually closed, and he sank into a dreamless sleep.

Legolas awoke to an ungentle shaking, so ungentle that his head was knocked into a rock, as though the awakener did not care about softness in the slightest. 'What?' he murmured, wondering who was rousing him so harshly.

'Get up, Sleeping Beauty', someone hissed. 'If I have to spend two hours alone with you, I want to have it over with as soon as possible.'

Suddenly, Legolas wasn't confused as to who wouldn't care about knocking his head into a rock as a way to awaken him. He sat up and glared at Elenion.

'"_Sleeping Beauty?"'_ repeated Legolas slowly, trying to keep his temper. 'Is that the best you could come up with?'

'As a matter of fact, it isn't', Elenion responded darkly. 'He-Who-Must-Spend-More-Time-On-His-Hair-Than-I-Do, He-Who-Dramatically-Stares-Off-Into-Space-When-Others-Are-Speaking, the Damsel in Distress...Take your pick; I've got more.'

Legolas glared at her, bringing all his anger and hatred for her into his eyes. Elenion looked him in the eye, undeterred and unfazed. After about thirty seconds, he looked away. Elenion smirked triumphantly.

'Who is Sleeping Beauty, anyway?'

Elenion smiled, but it was not a true smile: it was ironic and devoid of any real amusement. 'She's a princess from an old story told to children of Men. Apparently, she fell asleep for a hundred years and was woken by "true love's kiss." Quite stupid, really. First, I doubt the girl ever did anything so tiring it warranted a hundred years' sleep in her life; second, she woke up to a stranger who's kissing her; who in the world wakes up to find someone kissing them, and doesn't _immediately_ reach for a knife? Poor girl; no brains at all.'

'So I was compared to an overtired princess simply because I slept for a few hours?' Legolas asked, annoyed.

Elenion nodded. 'That, and the fact that in most tales she's described as having long, shiny locks of blonde hair.'

Legolas covered his face with his hand. He didn't look up for another few minutes, because he was too afraid that when he did, he would see her with that look of triumphant satisfaction on her face. 'So...' he said awkwardly. He didn't really know how to start an intelligent and cordial conversation with someone who absolutely hates you, but his mother always taught him that there was always something in trying. 'So', he tried again, 'how's life?'

Elenion narrowed her eyes at him. 'Was that a joke, Son of Thranduil?'

'No, no, it wasn't a joke', he tried to explain. 'It was only a question.'

Elenion pursed her lips. Legolas almost thought she was going to answer, but then she clapped her hands and said, 'I have a great idea. Why don't you not speak to me at all, and then I won't speak to you at all? Isn't that a great idea? I think so; let's do that and not say a word to each other for the next hour and a half. Okay? Okay.'

Legolas shook his head but remained silent. He picked up a sharp rock from the ground and started turning it over in his hand as he studied Elenion. In the moonlight he could see her hair in its braided bun on the back of her head, and the little strands that had fallen away and formed ringlets hanging down. Her eye colour shifted between dark brown and dark grey, but her expression remained the same: serious and alert, her eyes focused on the horizon, her jaw tightly closed. She was relaxed yet tense, and rested her right hand on the silver knife at her side. Her skin was so pale that it seemed to Legolas that it reflected the moonlight and gave her a silvery glow, and with her grey clothing, she looked like one of Elbereth's stars made living and brought down to earth in the likeness of an Elf. As he continued to study her, unhealthy thoughts leaked into his mind: _'She's very beautiful.'_

'No!' he accidentally responded out loud. He clenched the sharp rock in his hands so hard it drew blood, making him wince. Elenion looked at him critically, and then turned away, shaking her head and muttering something about the Children of Thranduil. Legolas assumed the murmur was not a comment of positivity.

The sun slowly began to rise, colouring the land first a pale grey, then a deep orange, then a light pink, and finally a very pale blue. The morning started as most do: slowly at first, giving everything a translucent touch, and then steadily progressing to the boldness which we call strong light. The air was cool, as it was still the early hours of the day and the sunlight had not yet strengthened to its full boldness.

Elenion leapt up with surprising spontaneity, and gently shook Aragorn. Against his will, Legolas envied that she hadn't awoken him that way.

'Aragorn, _eria Anor. Erio si am.'_ (Roughly, _'The Sun rises. Now, rise up.'_)

Aragorn sat up and shook the hair from his face. 'Good morning', he offered to Elenion.

'Good morning, good evening, that's all very nice. We should go.' And she continued waking Gandalf and the Hobbits, who awoke with moans. Aragorn smiled and shook his head. Legolas wondered how he could respond to Elenion's sarcasm and sharpness of tongue with a smile.


End file.
